locker room romance ; youngjae&junior âpast
The class had been dragging itself for the last half an hour. He enjoyed Chemistry, for the most part, but this was getting out of hand. He could barely keep his eyes open, let alone pay any attention to what the teacher was saying. Thankfully this professor was kind of ignorant, there could be a hurricane outside and heâd still be going on about Acids and Bases and The Period Table or whatever Chemistry was about that semester; not even good-student Youngjae knew anymore.
Half the class was spacing out, the other half was entertaining themselves with something else. Right in front of him, on the first chair, a girl was writing someoneâs name over and over again. Directly besides him, a boy was making a paper plane quite uselessly, and behind him, without any discretion whatsoever, another boy had his phone out. Nothing but sighs left his mouth as he stared at the clock. Just ten more minutes. Slowly, time dragged itself. Seven. Seven more minutes. Hell. He was in hell.
Another word about chemical bonds and he might as well melt himself into the floor and sigh himself to death. He didnât have the energy to even tap his foot or practice any of the habits he usually did when he was anxious for something to end. At least his next term was vacant; his plan was the fall asleep on the library or drink some coffee on the cafeteria to prepare himself for the next class (and what a dreadful one it was: Biology, his most hated subject).Â
He was giving up. A minute felt like five and he whispered softly to himself: just six more minutes. He couldâve counted the seconds, nothing at all was happening in that class. Chemistry was a bore, the girlâs obsession with whoever Kwon Jinshi was, the bad, bad doodles of the guy on his right and the beep-beep noises coming out of the other boyâs phone behind him. He stretched and looked around. Everyone was wanting death just as much as him; he was actually a bit glad he wasnât alone.
